Collection
by DarkWarr
Summary: For lack of a better title, this "story" will consist of chapters of events in the first game that I enjoyed. Written entirely from memory, so I've left out dialogue as much as possible to avoid ruining the experience for you. More info in introductions


**Author's Note:**

**I decided to write a short thing on Assassin's Creed. I plan to write another about the combat of Assassin's Creed, focusing heavily on how the Assassin never needs to fight, only counter and sneak attack.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this, constructive reviews are appreciated!**

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He moved through the crowd and gently nudged aside a weeping woman, her eyes unnoticing of the stranger as she gazed upon her husband on the gallows, his face ashen and devoid of hope. The dust of the stony ground gently wisped through the harsh steps of the onlookers, some hungry for blood, others saddened by the execution. The stranger wove his way through the crowd, his focus entirely on his target, the man on stage, dressed in fine linen and adorned in glittering gold.

"These people have committed great crimes against our city!"

The noise of the crowd was like the buzz of crickets in the night, present but of no consequence, and he ignored them all the same. Meaningless cries and jeers, pathetic whimpers and heartless cries for blood, all as meaningless as the words of the hypocrite who stood upon the stage.

"Stop!"

An oddity caught his attention, and he turned to see two men armed with short swords standing at the base of the gallows.

"How can you stand by and do nothing? I say that we've had enough!"

The hypocrite on stage made a movement to the rooftops, but drew no response. The stranger smirked as confusion crossed his target's face, and was somewhat disappointed when the man clearly dismissed absence of his archers as a nuisance. Really, authorities should pay more attention to details. The guards near the two men took the initiative and killed the two protestors, making an example for the citizens. This elicited cheers and cries of bloodlust and fear from the crowd, and the confusion and chaos was telling of the state of the city.

It was mad.

The execution began. The target turned his back to the crowd and began to lecture the prisoners. Among them was one of his own, a fellow Assassin. He had to be saved. The stranger hastened his movements and moved to the far end of the courtyard, slightly away from the gallows. He found a guard leaning against a wall, bored with the proceedings and already asleep. Perfect. The stranger flicked his left arm and brought forth his hidden blade, concealed in his gauntlet. Moving fast, he stepped close to the guard and stabbed his gut, to which the guard gave only a small whimper. He was dead in a matter of seconds, and continued to lean on the wall as if still asleep. The stranger turned and continued to blend in with the crowd, their jostling and movements hiding the kill that had just been made. By the time he had made his way back to the gallows, no one had noticed the corpse leaning against the wall at the far end of the courtyard.

"I send you back to the hell where you came from!"

A scream, timing perfect, pierced through the heat waves and energy. Silence fell, and the crowd turned, the heads of the guards snapped in the direction of the scream, their eyes searching for the cause of the disturbance. Even the guards upon the gallows abandoned their posts and stepped to the edge of the gallows, trying to see what was causing a stir and panic at the back of the crowd. Murmurs now began to arise as guards nearer to the woman had begun to move, but their movements were hampered by the crowd moving against them, away from the entrance and away from whatever had caused the scream.

No one noticed the stranger walking up the steps to the gallows, quiet as a mouse. No one heard the hiss of the knife as it cut the bonds of the prisoners, releasing them from their execution. No one saw him make a movement to tell them not to move, not until he had done what he had come to do. Nobody except the hypocrite upon the stage felt the sharp edge of the hidden blade pierce his throat, and no one heard his soft gurgling as he choked on his own blood.

"Murder!" the guards cried out, raising the alarm. The word reverberated through the crowd. Murder, who could have done this? Murder, who would dare murder at an execution?

"Master! We-" the guards upon the gallows turned to report to their master, their sentences half-drawn and cut short. There their master lay, in a pool of his own blood, his face registering shock and confusion, having died without knowing who killed him. The guards, panicked now, cast their eyes upon the poles there the prisoners were tied, but now were devoid of any man or woman. Without a sound, four prisoners were taken. Without any notice, two men were murdered in a crowd.

"Murder!"

Somewhere in Jerusalem, Altair landed in the Assassin's Bureau, his fellow Assassin with him. Somewhere in Jerusalem, a blood stained feather was received, a job completed, redemption on the horizon. Somewhere in the future, it was just another day for a team of scientists and a bartender.

Such is a day in the Animus after all.

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_I am but a blade in the crowd._


End file.
